biology & Medicine
How Hong Kong’s cultural identity shaped its pandemic response AARON KHEMCHANDANI
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utside the doors of the Langham Hotel, at the heart of Hong Kong’s shop-till-you-drop Tsim Sha Tsui district, there stands a lone guard wearing a white apron and turquoise rubber gloves. He glares ominously at passers-by, as if warning them not to enter. This establishment, like more than 40 others, has been designated as a quarantine hotel – a place where inbound travellers must reside for at least two weeks without leaving. The Langham, once a lively hotel occupied by wealthy tourists and those on the upper echelons of Hong Kong’s social ladder is now, in essence, a luxury prison. It is 2022, and this is Hong Kong’s current world. While many countries have begun re-opening their borders and “living with the virus”, Hong Kong remains relatively isolated. To understand why, we must take a step back and look at the history, politics and culture behind this multi-faceted metropolis. The city, like so much of the world, was previously a British colony. It held that status for a century-and-a-half before being turned over to China in 1997. British rule shaped much of the Hong Kong one would see on an overpriced museum postcard. After all, it was during this time that the city established itself as an economic and cultural hub, acting as a bridge between East Asia and the Western world. Despite its colonial history, however, the pandemic responses between Hong Kong and its former rulers have differed significantly. The United Kingdom has been phasing out restrictions and its government seeks to erase evidence that normality was ever disrupted, even as the country experiences hundreds of thousands of daily coronavirus cases. In contrast, Hong Kong has adopted a “zero-COVID policy” consisting of extensive quarantine periods, intensive testing regimes and swift lockdowns of entire districts. But why did its government take such a different
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approach? From February to May 2003, Hong Kong experienced a deadly outbreak of the SARS coronavirus, and the city’s ill-preparedness for it resulted in over 200 deaths. Once the disease started to spread, hospitals couldn’t contain it, and were quickly overwhelmed. Doctors and nurses were camping out in their clinics, terrified of going home for fear of spreading SARS to their families. Patients with life-threatening illnesses, such as brain tumours, had their operations forcibly delayed. The outbreak left an everlasting mark on citizens, and it may be the case that the current pandemic has reopened old wounds. Since early 2020, the government, perhaps in
"The Langham, once a lively hotel, is now, in essence, a luxury prison" fear of hospitals once again being swamped, has been hiding the city under a protective but mercilessly cold blanket of restrictions. However, the highly transmissible nature of the Omicron coronavirus variant means that these rules are not as effective as they once were and the goal of “zero COVID” is no longer feasible. The city’s lagging vaccination rate hasn’t helped. But to understand this, we’re going to have to dig a little deeper. Since 1997, Hong Kong’s government has been operating under a “One Country, Two Systems” regime. That is, it is formally part of China but is governed differently in comparison to the mainland, possessing its own judiciary and government. This system is supposed to remain in place until 2047, when
the 50-year “transition period” following the British handover comes to an end and Hong Kong becomes one with China. However, tensions have risen following repeated attempts by the Chinese government to speed up this process of integration by infringing on the rights that the Hong Kong people have grown accustomed to, such as freedom of expression and a free press (relative to China, anyway), leading to countless protests. Over the past two years, the disdain held by locals towards their government and its recent actions has manifested itself through, among other things, hesitation in accepting government-sanctioned vaccines. The Chinese government, with its overarching aura of control, essentially gets the final say on all major legislative decisions made in Hong Kong – including those pertinent to its coronavirus response. Because China’s faith in the zero-COVID model is unwavering, Hong Kong’s must be too, even if the public desire to shift away from it. Hong Kong’s fear of “living with COVID”, though understandable, is starting to cast a deeply bleak shadow over this global city. Asia’s cultural and economic hub – once blooming – is now starting to wilt. Several prominent scientists have come out against current pandemic policies, but the government seems determined to make them work despite their increasing irrationality. Should these strategies remain in practice, Hong Kong’s unique place in this ever-confusing world may be under serious threat. Service industries will keep suffering, and borders will remain relatively impenetrable. Although clouds of uncertainty continue to loom over its future, one thing is for certain: until Hong Kong’s guard is lowered, the one outside the Langham will most certainly remain in place. ■ Aaron Khemchandani is an MSc Science Communication student.
